Going Up
by Danny Phantom SG-1
Summary: Danny has to help a fellow ghost move on.  But it's not just any ghost.  It's family.


**A/N: Still failing at fanfiction. Wish I could do better after all this time...but I'm working on a chapter fic which...promises to be long, should I ever finish it. Ever...yeah. So I finally gave in and just decided to post this. I've had it done for...awhile? I don't know how long; ask sapphireswimming. **

**I don't like most of this, so I never posted it. But eh.**

**I was reading some book around the time I wrote this, and re-reading this story, I think the style was heavily influenced by it. _Wake_, maybe, and its sequels? They're short, and I like the style. Fragmented sentences. Lots of breaks. Stuff like that... **

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><p>It had been a long, hard battle. Harder than any battle he'd ever personally fought. And he had grown to admire her strength and perseverance more and more throughout the year.<p>

But it was time for the battle to end. She knew it. He knew it. Jazz knew it. And, as much as he pretended not to…Dad knew it, too.

She couldn't fight the disease any longer. It had taken too much of her; that skip in her step had been gone for months. That sparkle in her eye barely shined. And the words of comfort stopped being for herself and started being for them. _Just_ for them.

Did it make him angry she was giving up? No. Never. She'd fought long and hard. Longer and harder than he ever could have. But he could tell how much pain she was in. How it was hurting her just to draw in breath lately. And he wanted her to be better. To be happy.

And there was only one way for her to reach that point now.

So they waited. Knew it was coming soon. She'd been asleep for a long time now. Doctors had been on constant watch in her room all day. Even persuaded Jack to move the kids out into the waiting room, where they wouldn't be constantly bombarded with medical terms they were too frightened to understand. Where they wouldn't be in the way. Where they wouldn't have to watch the frantic rush when…it…happened.

Plus, it was more comfortable out here. There were couches, and the night desk lady – Angela, because they knew her by name at this point – even brought them pillows and blankets. Told them they could rest for awhile, and she'd let them know if she heard anything. They were very much obliged, and Dad went out like a light. He hadn't slept all week, and he didn't want to sleep now, but the comfy couch and the paper-coated pillow were too much to resist. Jazz was fighting it. Wanted to be ready. She was prepared to be the strong one, which surprised Danny slightly. If anything were to happen, Jazz was always the first to cry. But he could see her analyzing the situation even now, through her tired eyes. Dad was going to crumble; his dependence was going to shift to…someone. And Jazz had decided Dad could lean on her. Because Danny…

Well, he'd decided to handle everything by becoming distant. Spending more time around ghosts and less time around the living. Because ghosts were emotionless. He didn't have to worry about losing them.

They weren't going to die.

No matter how much Jazz tried to get him to talk, he refused. Brushed it off, said it was a part of life—a part of growing up, even—and gone back to looking for ghost trouble that wasn't there. But Jazz was sure he was going to give in when it actually happened. When he needed her most, she would be there, whether she was crying too or not. Which she would be. He could see the sheen of tears in her eyes even now, as she anticipated.

Or maybe she was just tired.

He stifled a yawn and turned from Jazz and his father, staring down the hallway at the one room with the lights on.

Mom's.

He sighed, noting solemnly the number of people rushing in and out. Something was going on…

His train of thought stopped dead as he felt the familiar rush of ice run up his spine and expel from his mouth. Ghost sense. He contemplated just lying there. He was too tired to deal with anyone at this hour, on this day, in this week.

But it could be a useful distraction.

Glancing over at his father, Danny slid under the sheet and went ghost. Dad would never notice. He was so tired, there was no way the man was waking up for anything.

Except maybe when the news came that…

Naw. Back to ghosts.

He slid out from the sheet, and he saw Jazz look his way. He was invisible, but she looked at the general vicinity of where he was and questioned with her eyes.

"Ghost trouble. Be back soon," he whispered.

"Careful," she cautioned, her voice breaking. She seemed surprised at that and cleared her throat after to try to cover it.

But they both knew what it really was.

He nodded even though she couldn't see it and flew through the hallways. Feeling more than looking for the ghost. The colder it got, the closer it was. That's how you find 'em.

Nothing on this floor. He flew downward and felt nothing, so he decided whoever it was must be outside somewhere. Terrorizing people around the building. He made a mental note to give whoever it was a stern talking-to, as no one should be haunting a hospital. The people here were mentally messed up already without some ghost coming around and scaring the crap out of them.

He flew up, deciding to get a look around the building from the top, but he noticed it getting colder as he went. It was on the roof.

He broke through the final ceiling and slowed, hovering just an inch or so above the ground. Never good to be walking when your opponent can fly. Just makes things more difficult for you.

He glanced around slowly, turning until he saw the outline of a…

A blue….figure.

His heart stopped.

His stomach dropped.

And he stopped breathing.

And he thought _Jazz_ was a crier.

"M…Mom?" he breathed, not even loud enough for her to hear. But he wasn't sure he wanted her to hear.

She didn't turn. Just kept floating there. Wasn't moving. Just the wind blew her whispy, transparent hair. She was staring out into space. She looked confused.

He couldn't bring himself to say anything else, but his strength had all but abandoned him, and he couldn't float anymore. His feet hit the ground, and then his muscles, refusing to cooperate under the pressure, gave way and landed him on his knees, the rest of him crumpling into a ball as tears fell from his tired eyes.

She heard him then. The sound of a boy remarkably similar to her son crying alerted her motherly instincts, and she turned immediately. She floated over, and he tried to compose himself. He stared at the ground for a long while before lifting his head to look into her eyes.

They held an astounding amount of concern and sympathy considering…well, considering what she was now. But they became tense when she saw his face, and she hardened her stare as she looked into his dull green eyes.

"Phantom," she whispered, a strange echo in her voice.

"Mo—," he paused, gulping back the tears that either name brought to his eyes, "Maddie?"

"What are you doing here?" she asked, seemingly forgetting that she had just been concerned about his emotional state. She flew slightly backwards, giving him room to get up.

He took the invitation slowly, trying to steady his shaking hands and legs as he stood.

"I was…looking for someone," he answered vaguely, not even sure what he was saying anymore. "What are…what are you doing here?"

She looked into his eyes with a steely gaze before shrugging. "I…don't know. I'm not sure how I got here. But I can't remember where I was before."

She turned on him suddenly, "Did you kidnap me?"

He shook his head immediately to the contrary. "I just got here," he reasoned.

She glanced around and nodded hastily. "Right. I…didn't remember."

_Remember._ "What do you remember?"

She paused. Smiled. A familiar look jumping into her eyes. "I remember laughter. And playing. And my babies. Oh, my babies. I don't know where they are. Or how I get back to them. Do you know?" she asked anxiously.

"I wish I did," he responded quietly.

"Oh," she said, panicked. "I don't know why I'm here."

He blinked back tears. It had been so long since he'd heard her talk. So long since he'd seen this crazed, wild side of his mother. And yet this…this somehow wasn't it. It wasn't quite right. When you become a ghost, it's like you become a half of who you were before. Just a remnant of you survives in non-corporeal form. Floating around.

Why _was_ she here?

"Maddie," he caught her attention again, "is there something you…need?"

She turned around, her eyes glossy. "I need to go home."

Closed his eyes. _Don't cry, don't cry, don't cry. _"I know you do. I'm trying to help you. Why are you here?"

"Stop trying to empathize!" she practically yelled, her ghostly screech carrying across the tops of several buildings, and Danny looked around to make sure she hadn't accidentally wailed someone off the roof of some other edifice. "I already told you I don't know why I'm here," she turned. "I just want to get off of this building, but I can't open that door. The handle keeps slipping out of my hands."

She was on the verge of tears, and it broke his heart just a little more to hear her anguish. Open the door? Why didn't she just…?

Oh.

She…didn't know.

"Maddie," he tried again, "Do you know what you are?"

"Of course I know what I am, but what are _you_?" she snapped briskly, turning bright red eyes at him and scowling.

He was beginning to understand. "You don't know what you are yet," he told her calmly. "Look down."

She narrowed her eyes at him before obeying, having no other game plan. And her movements froze entirely at what she saw.

"I'm…flying," she realized incredulously. "How?"

"You've been doing that the whole time," he explained slowly. Taking a deep breath and looking to the sky for guidance, he continued. "You've been sick for a long time. They couldn't help you anymore. This building we're standing, er…floating on right now is a hospital…"

She'd stopped listening halfway through his reasoning. She didn't need everything spelled out for her. Sometimes he forgot she was much more perceptive and clever than Dad.

Perhaps because she'd consistently missed one big detail.

But she put this together.

"Am I…am I dead?" she breathed. "Am I a ghost? Like you?"

He looked at her wide eyes and nodded. "Not quite like me. But a ghost. Yes. You…you've died, Maddie."

At these words, he slowly fell to his knees again, burying his face in his hands and trying desperately to choke back sobs. Why? Why, why, _why?_

His cries sparked that sympathy in her yet again, and she floated over to him, placing a hand awkwardly on his back.

"It's all right, Phantom," she muttered. "I…it'll be okay."

So similar to the ways she'd consoled him—Danny Fenton him—in those last few months. Impersonal. Realistic. Vague. But somehow, still comforting.

"No," he whispered hoarsely. "It won't until we fix this. Why are you still here?"

She shrugged and sighed heavily. "Because…I'm a ghost. I guess."

She was still processing. He imagined this was a big thing to try to take in. But she was handling it with the same grace and placidity with which she'd handled every new development this year. And he couldn't help but admire her further, even as he worried for her.

"But _why?_" he pursued. "Why are you a ghost? Why haven't you…moved on?"

She shook her head. "There's something. It must be something. My family? No. I love them. But Jack will take care of them; I know he will," she smiled at her vague, ghost-like memory of him.

"We need to figure it out," he coaxed through his tears. "I want you to be happy. I want to help you."

She tensed, and he knew.

"Why are you always like that?" she shot back quickly, her eyes regaining their tinge of red. "Ghosts. Are. Emotionless. They are not people. _Living_ people have emotions. _Living _people cry when someone else has died. But ghosts do _not_! Not real emotions. Just…leftover sentiments. But _you_. You change all the time. You have no one thing that you obsess over. _Why?_"

He calmly listened as he let his mother question him. It was almost interesting, he noted, that he was his own mother's obsession. That the very fact of what he was kept her grounded to this world. His ghost form. It contradicted all of her theories and made her question her own ethics. She'd hurt him a few times. Not terribly, but she had. And he'd seen her in the evenings, as he hid his scars, fuss and fume about the house, questioning whether she did the right thing. Could she hurt a sentient being based solely on the fact that _all _others of his kind were just wasted away spirits looking for connections to humanity they would never find? He fascinated her, and she was angry that he had emotions. That he was like a living being. Because he was…

So that was it. He knew how to fix this. But neither of them was going to like it.

"Mom, I have to tell you the truth," he said deliberately.

Her eyes immediately softened as she looked to him. "What did you just call me?"

Shaking, he stood up again, tears blurring his vision as she hovered closer to him. He closed his eyes and felt the cold feel wash out of him, bringing him back to life, and it made him cry all the more that she would never do the same.

He opened his eyes to see her, through his tears, with her mouth agape and eyes focused as she stared at him. Her eyes slowly rose to meet his.

"Danny?" she breathed, already grasping for him before he could confirm her answer.

He let her grab him in a tight hug, and he returned it, using his ghost powers subconsciously to keep from sifting through her ghostly form. He kept reminding himself it wasn't the same. She was transluscent—he could see that—an accentuated version of her real self. A memory. A mere remnant of the strong, wonderful woman who had been his mother.

But he held her no less strongly than he would have if he'd gotten the chance to give one last embrace to his mom.

She pulled back from him, and he kept sniveling, unable to stop after the sobs had ceased erupting from his chest.

"Oh, my baby," she smiled, running her fingers through his hair like she used to when she was proud of him. "I see now. You've always been good. And I should have realized. I'm so sorry."

He sniffed and shook his head vehemently. "No. Don't be sorry. Don't regret anything. Don't dwell on it," he took her hands in his and shook them emphatically. "You know now. And you need to go. Please, Mom. I don't…as much as I don't want to lose you, and the thought of you being around seems...nice…I don't want you to be a ghost."

She smiled, and he could sense her returning more and more to herself. It was good. It meant she was that much closer to going.

"You've grown up so much," she said almost sadly. "You don't need me to take care of you anymore. You're a mature, brave young man…and I'm so proud of you."

He closed his eyes as another sob let loose, and tears continued to stream down his face. "I _do _need you, Mom. I always will. Just…not here. I need you to go. Find peace. Be happy again. That's all I want."

"And all I want is for my family to be happy," she told him, glowing with an other-worldly shine that he'd never seen a ghost take on. He knew this was it. "Tell your father I know he'll be okay. And tell Jazz I'm proud of her, too."

He nodded, smiling even as he tasted the salty drops running into his mouth. "I promise."

"I love you."

It was more of a feeling than actual words at the end. An echo and a burst of light, and then she was gone. He stood, breathing heavily and staring back out into space. He turned every which way to make sure she wasn't still there. Only a small part of him was disappointed when she was nowhere to be found. And then he went ghost and descended back down.

The fourth floor was chaos. People running back and forth to the room. Frantic. Jazz was on her feet, staring down the hallway, her hands folded in a silent prayer. He reappeared next to her, and she didn't even turn to him.

"Well?" she asked.

"It was Mom," he answered softly.

She blinked her eyes. Turned slowly to him. "You mean...?"

"Yeah," he started, but she grabbed onto him before he could continue. She'd seen the dried tear stains on his face, and she knew. Always knew. Jazz was always the first to figure it out.

He held her as she sobbed into his shoulder, whispering the same hollow words of comfort Maddie had used on him just a few minutes before. The commotion settled down, and solemn doctors emerged from the room, a few heading their way. Ready to inform the family of what two of them already knew.

The doctors came over, looks of sympathy in their eyes, and Danny couldn't bear to hear them say it again.

"We know," he whispered, still rubbing his hand along his sister's back, smoothing her hair as she cried. "It's okay. We'll tell our Dad. We just…figured it out."

Taken slightly aback, the doctor nodded, and told him, "Just…talk to Angela if you need anything. I'm very sorry, son."

And he left. The "I'm very sorry" and "son" were terms he'd been trying to avoid in shushing the doctor up, but the renewed streams of tears didn't bother him as much as he thought they would.

"She's proud of you," Danny whispered to Jazz. "She told me to tell you."

His sister hiccupped and pulled back from him, holding his shoulders and forcing him to make eye contact. "You talked to her?"

He nodded uncertainly. "She was a ghost. But now she's not. She just wanted to know who I was, Jazz. Somehow, I think she knew, and she just needed to confirm it first. I don't really understand, but she's gone now. She's…she's in a better place. Really. But right before she left, when she was really herself again…that's when she told me to tell you: she's proud of you."

Jazz smiled through her tears and almost laughed. "I miss her already."

They heard a noise coming from the other side of the waiting room and turned to see Jack sitting straight up and staring ahead, his eyes deadened with grief.

"Dad?" Jazz asked through her tears.

"She's gone," he said. It was a fact. Not a question.

The siblings nodded and went over to wrap their father in a tight embrace.

"It's okay, Dad," Danny said. "Mom said to tell you that you'll be fine."

He looked at Danny, surprised. "She talked to you? When did she tell you that?"

Danny blinked. "It's a long story," he went with, deciding it would be too much for his father to handle at this moment. But someday. Someday relatively soon. He would tell him. Just in case.

"But she told me to tell you. And she loves us," he whispered, burying his face into his father's arm as he cried again.

But he knew she was happy. And that was what mattered to him. To all of them.

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><p><strong>I didn't post it because I didn't like my ending, and I feel my pacing could have been better in certain places. But eh. Inspired by one of sapphireswimming's story-things that I read. I've seen a lot of motherly grief over Danny dying stories, but I can't recall having seen a Maddie-Phantom bonding story in which she becomes a ghost. So I decided to try it. <strong>


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